


Surviving The Blitz (Crash, Burn, Get Up & Dance Mix)

by Willow



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-10
Updated: 2009-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow/pseuds/Willow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christina, George, Muffins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surviving The Blitz (Crash, Burn, Get Up & Dance Mix)

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another remix gift for Zvi_Likes_Tv. Almost every time she's participated in a remix, it's been like hair pulling. So I started remixing whenever she participated so she'd always have something, even if it was something extra. Original here: [Drop a Bom (gently)](http://community.livejournal.com/greys_exchange/5724.html?style=mine)

George had delicate hands.

It was an odd thought to have, Cristina thought, while laying spread eagle on the bed of a crappy motel room with said hands, and a not too unskilled tongue working feverously between her thighs.

"Fuck... yes!" Her hands were in his hair, mostly palming his scalp and keeping him there. For a brief moment Cristina imagined this happening in a hospital room, Callie and Izzie watching from the sidelines - Jealous.

It made her moan.

George moaned back, as if appreciative of her sounds and the vibrations did wonderful things to her clit. Fuck Burke and his big black dick and his attitude and superiority and constant need for control. Fuck Meredith and her on again, off again, only when drunk lesbianism and the way she complicated their friendship over and over and over again, but only ever until Derek Sheppard Wonder Surgeon beckoned with his littlest finger.

George moved her, still with the delicate sure hands, no hesitation, no power games, no dilly dallying questioning; just need. She rolled with him, flipped over, straddling him. Hands on his chest, looking down at the cherubic cuteness, she grinned to match the devil smile on his face.

"Fuck Callie."

"Fucking Burke." George spat back, reminding her that he had his own reasons to be angry and bitter about her almost husband.

Cristina pricked her nails into George's chest. "Not anymore!"

Later, much much later, spent and sticky and slightly itching with drying sweat, Cristina took another swig from one of the bottles of Manischewitz Cream Blush she'd bought to supplement the basket of baked goods that had sent her over here in the first place; mission of mercy to save Izzie from making an even bigger fool of herself and Meredith from worrying about it.

"You want to move into my place?"

George started laughing and Cristina arched a brow, but figured she could guess his thoughts. Yeah, the last thing he needed was to get involved with yet a third woman. But that wasn't what she was offering. She passed him the bottle, sitting up and leaning on her arm, breasts high and bare against the crumpled sheets.

"I'm serious. This isn't a shit hole, but it's not good. And Burke's apartment is a little nicer than I can afford, even with, uh—."

George rolled his eyes. "Even with your pay raise as a resident."

"You pay me half what you're paying here, clean the living room and kitchen, and do the grocery shopping, and I'll come out way ahead."

"Way ahead? From half what I'm paying here?"

"And dropping the maid service. It was Burke's maid service. I just haven't canceled it."

She watched him consider it, really consider it, noticing how serious his eyes got.

" The thing you have with Meredith...?"

"The thing I have with Meredith is already weird." Cristina shrugged. "This thing with you is weird. But I don't like living alone. Anymore."

He watched her eyes in turn and then smiled. "This is not a thing. This is ...something that is not a thing."

Cristina poked him until he laughed. "Brilliant logic."

"I'm doing a crazy amount of research for Professor Vishkaran, I'm looking for a real research fellowship somewhere closer to my mother, and, God help me, I've been talking to the University of Washington's PA program. This is as brilliant as I get on..." George looked to the floor and the two empty bottles of wine and scattered muffin, brownie and bread crumbs. ".. while high."

"Hmm sugar. All that's missing is caffeine."

"Jolt's in the fridge."

"Don't move to Tacoma." She'd turned away from him now, stretching. But it wasn't because she couldn't meet him eye to eye. After a moment of giving him time to digest her words, Cristina turned back.

"Your mom's in Tacoma, right? Don't move back. Stay here. Move in with me. Do your year over." She smiled, shark smile. "So your set-back was bigger than mine, or Meredith's or Izzie's. So what? You're going to let some stupid heartache keep you from doing what you were meant to do?"

"That the speech Meredith gave you?"

"Meredith fucked me through the worst of it." She said still smiling. "Did it work with you?"

"That's disgusting!" But he smiled. "Fifty-fifty on utilities, don't cancel the maid service."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Cristina smiled. "I am good at this cheering up shit after all."

"You really kind of are." George said.

 

~Fin~


End file.
